


Gift that keeps on giving.

by noelia_g



Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: F/M, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-22
Updated: 2010-03-22
Packaged: 2017-10-08 05:30:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/73187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noelia_g/pseuds/noelia_g
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Like many great things in life, it begins with a bottle of tequila. Or something that resembles tequila in taste and in effect and that Gaila picked up on the planet that probably has a proper name but is known throughout the ship as 'the rainbow planet with booze' and throughout the sickbay as 'the damned hellhole, and I will not set foot there ever again, Jim'.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gift that keeps on giving.

Like many great things in life, it begins with a bottle of tequila. Or something that resembles tequila in taste and in effect and that Gaila picked up on the planet that probably has a proper name but is known throughout the ship as 'the rainbow planet with booze' and throughout the sickbay as 'the damned hellhole, and I will not set foot there ever again, Jim'.

So, it starts with a bottle of pretend-tequila and something else that Gaila picked up on that planet.

"…thank you?" Christine says, turning the gift in her hands with a slightly puzzled expression.

"It's a gag gift," Gaila explains helpfully. Christine bemoans the day they started to explain the whole concept to her. Of course, they were drunk on pretend-whiskey at the time…

Sometimes, just sometimes, Christine thinks that the whole space exploration business is just bullshit and a cover for finding new ways to intoxicate yourself.

"Of course, it's also a practical gift, which I was told gag gifts rarely are. It's practical in the way that you can use it. Preferably on our Doctor McCoy, because he desperately needs to be well-fucked."

Uhura starts coughing, hiding her face in one of Christine's pillows.

"Not helpful, Nyota," Christine tells her dryly.

"Oh, but it is." Her voice is rasp and all too amused for Christine's liking. "It's the same thing you've been saying for months, Chris, only in much more veiled way."

That's kind of true. She's not quite sure what to do about it, but it is kind of true.

*

Next step, and this is important, is not brought on by any kind of alcohol at all. In fact, the only liquid involved has already dried out, marking Leonard's blue shirt with dark red.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Christine asks, throwing herself at him with a speed and force that surprises even her. Surprises Leonard something awful too, but after the stunned few seconds he responds to her kiss with a welcome enthusiasm, so there's that.

"Nice to see you too, Chapel," he mutters, and she bites his lip for that, hard.

"Fuck you, McCoy. You pull a stunt like this ever again, and god help me, insubordination or not, I will end you."

She swears she heard Leonard himself give this exact same spiel to the captain on a great number of occasions and never follow up on his threats but she will, honestly. She will. The moment the scans stopped picking up their vitals was the worst moment in her life, bar none. And if he dares to crack a joke right now, she'll hypospray his ass right here and right now.

He doesn't. Instead, his muscles relax under her palms, his body warm and soft and pliant for her. "Yes, ma'am," is all he says, voice rough and eyes clouded.

"Good," she mutters.

*

It's days later still, and some alcohol is involved, but not all that much. Glass of bourbon for him and some wine for her, considering what usually goes on during shore leave they're taking things rather mildly. So far.

The ship is almost empty, skeleton crew on duty and everyone else had beamed down to the planet that bears such a resemblance to the Earth's Hawaii Spock is 'fascinated' by all the similarities and wants to research it some more.

"One crack about getting lei'd and there'll be words, Jim," Nyota warned the captain before anyone could comment, spoiling the fun for many.

So, it's one empty ship, one glass of bourbon, and maybe two glasses of wine, and then it's Leonard's head hitting the headboard with a soft thud, and the groan that follows could be from that, or it could be because Christine is straddling his lap, her hips rising and falling slowly.

"I thought we talked about me dying, and how it was a bad idea? And yet here you are, trying to kill me," Len says breathlessly and she laughs.

"Just starting on that, honey."

"Damnit, Chris," he mutters and twists under her, stretching his arm. "Do you have…?" he starts and she nods, pulling out the pins from her hair, letting it fall all around her shoulders.

"In the drawer," she says and doesn't rise to the bait of his smirk, of the 'planned this, huh?' that is implied.

And no, didn't plan it all that much, because then she'd remember what else is in that drawer, because she couldn't figure out any other place to put it, and, well…

"It was a gift," she starts to explain and immediately gives up because one, there's no way she's getting into the whole thing about explaining the gift-giving to Gaila and the months of amusement and annoyance that followed, and two, she can feel that Leonard went from interested to rock hard in a matter of seconds and isn't that, to borrow a phrase, fascinating. "You like it," she says, and it comes both accusatory and breathless because damn, she's so turned on now.

He shrugs. "I'd lie and deny, but I think it's pretty hard to hide," he says, grimacing at his own turn of phrase. "Yes, I've been spending too much time with Jim Kirk."

"Or not enough," Christine mutters, swinging her leg over him and sitting back on the edge of the bed, whisking the strap-on out of his hand. He watches her every move as she lowers her panties and hikes up her skirt. She hadn't expected to actually wear it, but Gaila is very practical, and her gift is easy to figure out and put on.

It also fits her snugly and teases her as she moves, which will probably prove very useful in a moment.

"Damnit, Chris," he groans, low and throaty, after she coats her fingers in lube and presses against him, pushes just a little. It takes a moment to prepare him carefully, a moment filled with his heavy breathing as his fingers tangle in the sheets and his back arches. "Fuck," is all he says when she enters him and Christine laughs delightedly.

"That's an excellent idea, Doctor McCoy."

"Titles, Chris? Kinky," he mutters, but the words come out slurred and liquid, his skin flushed and warm all over.

"For someone with a stick up your ass you're surprisingly relaxed," she remarks cheerfully and gets a half-hearted eyeroll for his trouble.

"Christine, honey, just shut up and fuck me, will you?"

She smiles winningly. This could be the best gift in the history of ever, she thinks. She'll be sure to thank Gaila. Much later.


End file.
